Don’t Walk On By | Kaija Savinainen Mountain
Birds eat, consume, distribute sunflower seeds far and wide. Many varieties of birds visit our feeders. Bluejays, chickadees, starlings, red-winged blackbirds, finches of many kinds, mourning doves, varieties of grosbeaks, a cardinal this year and I’m sure there are others I’ve missed identifying.
Throughout the spring and summer seedlings are dropped randomly only to sprout wherever there is a hint of soil. One year we had several tall sunflowers grow in the chicken “condo”. The girls, our four hens proved very capable gardeners. One of the sunflowers sprouted to a great height. A fantastically bushy hollyhock also put on a great show. My hubby Jim even entered Hen’s Garden into the local newspaper for Garden of the Week. It received smiles and “honorable mention”. Hens were very proud!
This year once again sunflowers have sprouted randomly into most unlikely of places. Yes, in small crevices along the dog kennel, under big trees or bushes where strong light is scarce, and of course in the middle of the yard. This phenomenon of plants exerting their will to survive requires understanding and patience on behalf of the gardener. I wait for it to grow a bit and then transplant the seedling to a more suitable location. I do have large gardens and my focus has been on those for this past summer.
My painting explorations have also been focused on the masses of color and light, not of single scraggly sunflowers. Out of the corner of my eye, though, I did witness some real hardy souls attempting to make a go of it in places they shouldn’t really be. Did I mention there is considerable dog, cat and hen traffic in our yard? All supervised of course, but the hens are wild about moving my garden mulch, scattering it far and wide.
These very busy free-ranging girls and I have come to an agreement - no moving stuff around my new plants. Yes, it’s ok to check for grubs, ticks and whatever happens to crawl and other things they deem edible. As the hens do their routine work, making the rounds, my faithful canines have been equally busy creating mined-out cooling “pits” throughout our yard, located strategically in the lawn or under a shady tree or shrub. These pits are of a certain depth and diameter making them suitable for a dog’s hind end thus remaining cool on hot days. Sounds logical does it not? We call these geological phenomena “leg stretchers” or “the pits”. They make for a surprise when striding across a seemly green space. Wowzers, eeck, pay attention to the feet, catching yourself stumble. The pits are a bit more difficult to navigate at night. As of late, I have also witnessed the chickens using the “pits” for dust bathing. Multi-purpose usage! Cooperation amongst the species! Attempts have been made throughout the season to fill in the pits but to no avail. As if by magic they reappear freshly re-dug almost overnight.
The third factor in all of this - the man on the lawn mover - also has strict orders about what to cut and where not to venture with his ride-on mover. It takes three hours to mow this place, so he has to be very awake to this fact!
Amidst this summer’s chaos, miraculous as all growth is – one, and then a second little sunflower has sprouted at the base of a huge spruce where no mower can reach it. Yep, almost safe it would seem. But again, the chickens are busy ladies working moving, scratching and if I didn’t know better, I swear they almost seem to have shovels stashed for heavier digging.
I walked by hundreds of times and not given these fledgling sunflowers hardly a thought So why in late summer did she catch my eye? Something about the little bloom she was displaying, was it the tilt of the stem reaching toward sunlight, was it the leaves waving in the wind, what was it? No idea but there she was. A seed had been planted in my mind as I hung out my laundry. I looked and then thought that is a beautiful little sunflower. I must try and do a sketch. The obvious possible composition was right there while I was too busy to notice or to see. Thank you, wee plant for bringing me literally back to earth.
“Less is more” - had I forgotten that? No need to look for the grandeur and beauty when the small and insignificant is right under your nose. Yes, a good lesson in humbleness. Lesson learned that I had put into practice from my years of observing and painting horses. I paint the broken down, the aged, the ones who do not have perfect conformation. Artists such as Kathe Kollwitz, Franz Marc, Emily Carr to name a few, paint beyond the “surfaceness” of a subject. They delve deeper to find its essence, the truth of what is. And so I painted these courageous little sunflowers.
